


Tumblr Mini Fic Number Prompts

by Dee_in_between



Category: Leverage, Multi-Fandom, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Absentee father, Alcohol, Bonding, But Daryl understands, Depression, Dixoncest, Eliot is insecure and it's precious, Eliot secretly likes to look pretty sometimes, Flirting, Hair Braiding, Hard childhood, Hardison is a good boyfriend, Merle is bad at apologizing, Merle just out of prison, Moody Daryl, Multi, Parker is the best, Sibling Incest, Substance Abuse, Suicide, Triggers, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, screw gender norms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-13 05:35:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9108700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dee_in_between/pseuds/Dee_in_between
Summary: From the mini fic prompt on mytumblr. Just something to help me get past my block on Crybaby, Crybaby. Feel free to check it out and drop apromptof your own!CH1: 66. Let Me Mess With Your Hair - Leverage OT3CH2: 19. You WILL Survive This - TWD Shane & RickCH3: 2. Why are you like this - Daryl/Merle





	1. Leverage OT3 - 66. Let Me Mess With Your Hair

**Author's Note:**

> whileshesings asked:  
> 66, leverage ot3, the hair in question is obviously eliot's

Eliot Spencer had spent his entire life doing his own thing. When he set his sights on a goal he didn’t let anything stop him. It had burned a lot of bridges in his past but he’d taught himself to make peace with it. He accepted that doing what he wanted and being the best at those things meant you couldn’t have attachments to people. At least that’s how it used to be.  
Nate had changed his life in so many ways, the biggest of which was bringing him into the ragtag group of felons turned vigilantes. He’d brought them all together and in doing so had given Eliot the one thing he was sure he would never have again. A family. One that accepted him for what he was. Who supported and encouraged him. He gave Eliot the loves of his life.  
Parker and Hardison understood Eliot. They knew how his mind worked. They knew the drive he had and the need to be good at everything he did. They had always supported him whether it be learning to be a better Grifter or just trying a new recipe but Eliot felt that his latest project was perhaps a bit…odd. Even for them.

Eliot was no stranger to the ridicule that often came with learning things that were “for chicks”. He’d dealt with it in high school for taking home economics. He’d taken flack from his father and military friends for his long hair and his knowledge of fashion wasn’t considered normal for a man like him. All Eliot cared about was that it interested him or that it was beneficial to the job. However, this might be crossing a line. It wasn’t for the job. It wasn’t a beneficial skill like cooking or a new fighting style. This was purely a desire. 

It was also frustrating as hell. Eliot shoved the laptop away with a growl, deciding that this tube thing Hardison was always fussing about was utterly useless. He’d been watching tutorial after tutorial for hours now and all he’d gotten was stress and a rat’s nest of knots that he’d have to spend the next ten minutes carefully brushing out. He spoke twelve languages, had cooked in Michelin Star restaurants and knew fifty three ways to murder a man with a spoon. He would be damned if he was going to be bested by a braid. 

Sure, he knew how to do do simple ones and he’d always kept them in the under layers where they were subtle and easily hidden. Occasionally he’d throw in some beads or feathers but nothing too obviously feminine. This, however, was intricate and blatant and definitely not designed with masculinity in mind. Objectively, he knew that masculinity and femininity were social constructs. The logical part of his mind knew that wanting to do something that looked pretty once in awhile didn’t detract from his identity as a man. That didn’t make it any easier to push away thoughts of what his father would say or anyone else for that matter.  
So he’d been in his room all day trying to figure it out on his own, failing each time and only getting more upset. “Dammit, Hardison,” he snarled, tugging the brush just a bit too hard. “Damn ‘tube yourself’ stuff. Doesn’t make any sense.”

“Can I try?”

Eliot nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice from the ceiling. He cursed his carelessness. If Parker’s presence had escaped his notice, he’d really let his guard down. “What are you doin’ in here,” he asked, looking to where the blonde was stretched over a rafter on her stomach.

“I like it in here,” she answered. “It’s peaceful. And those smoke sticks you use help me think.”

“Incense, Parker,” he sighed. “And what did we talk about?”

“Don’t eat anywhere higher than the counter.”

“No, not… About personal space, Parker!”

“I asked before I came in,” Parker told him. “You weren’t here to say no so I did.”

“That…that’s not…” Eliot pinched the bridge of his nose, huffing in frustration. As if this day hadn’t been difficult enough.

“So can I try,” Parker asked again, head tilting curiously as she looked down at him. 

“Try what,” Eliot snapped.

“Let me mess with your hair.” Parker rolled to the side, letting herself fall off the metal beam and coast down her rigging until she was hovering next to Eliot, mere inches above his bed. “It was easier for me to learn when I watched Sophie do mine.”  
Eliot quickly snapped the laptop shut, pushing it away from Parker. “I don’t…it’s just somethin’…don’t you have cases to find!” He pushed himself up off the bed, embarrassed at both missing the intrusion and being caught. Really, it was a testament to how comfortable he was with both of them that she hadn’t even been a blip on his radar when he came in but knowing that she’d seen the whole ordeal made his stomach roll. 

“Do you wanna learn or not,” Parker asked, giving him a knowing stare. As clueless as she was sometimes, Parker was still a mastermind and when it came to her boys little escaped her attention. This was important to Eliot. He wouldn’t have spent so much time and energy on it if it wasn’t. Eliot stared back, knowing he was caught. Even if Parker didn’t know everything, she knew enough. And he really did want to learn how to do it.

Sensing her victory, Parker released the connector on her harness and let herself drop to the bed. She perched on the edge of it with her knees spread apart and motioned to the floor between them. Eliot sighed and rolled his eyes but did as he was told, taking a seat in front of her. He took the hand mirror she offered him with the instruction to watch and she set to work. It wasn’t the most difficult braid she’d ever done. Building your own rig was much harder than hair. Still, it wasn’t exactly easy to do it on your own head which she also knew from experience. It started at his left temple, clinging close to his head and wrapping around. The silky strands slipped through her fingers like water as she worked and Eliot had to admit it felt kind of nice to have someone else playing with it. The two sat in companionable silence, Parker focusing on her task and Eliot watching with the mirror as she worked. It came around to the right side, the braid dropping lower as she went until it ended just below his jaw. The lower layers were left loose to hang in a curtain just beneath the braid and Eliot couldn’t help but be pleased to find it looked exactly the way it had in all the pictures. 

“It helps to set up mirrors until you get the feel for it,” Parker explained. “And now it’ll be out of your face when you make dinner.”

“That your way of beggin’ for food,” Eliot asked with an amused smile.

“It’s your own fault. You agreed to teach me about food, I taught you how to braid. We’re even. Now feed me.”

Eliot shook his head fondly. Only Parker. “Alright. Let me take this out.”

Parker laid her hand gently over his, stopping him from taking out the elastic. She gave Eliot a soft smile and leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Leave it in,” she told him. “You look good.”

Eliot hesitated. Parker seemed totally unfazed but there was no guarantee Hardison would feel the same. Of course he would never say something to Eliot with the intent of making him feel bad or self conscious but the two of them went back and forth constantly. Most things rolled off for both of them and it was was more flirting than actual arguing these days. But this was something Eliot was actually sensitive about. Parker had no such reservations, taking him by the hand and tugging him to his feet. He let her lead him, fingers laced through his as they made their way downstairs. 

Hardison was planted in front of his computer, typing away as he worked on his latest project. He’d been there most of the day in the eerily silent apartment trying to improve their security systems and hadn’t seen hide nor hair of his partners. As they descended the stairs, he looked up at them with a pout. “Bout damn time,” he said. “Supposed to be our day off and I don’t see either of my babies all day. That just ain’t right.” Hardison paused. Something was off. For anyone who didn’t know him it would be impossible to notice but it was clear to Hardison that Eliot was uncomfortable. The cross of his arms, the flat, stony look on his face, it was all a clear indication to Hardison that the hitter was feeling insecure. The question was why. 

“Maybe if you got off that damn thing once in awhile you’d see more than ones and zeroes,” the man huffed. He set off for the kitchenette, giving a confused and concerned Hardison his back. 

He looked to Parker, hoping she would have some answer for him since Eliot wasn’t going to be talking anytime soon. Parker stared back at him, giving him a pointed look. Her expression practically screamed ‘don’t mess this up’. 

“Doesn’t Eliot’s hair look pretty today,” she announced. There was the clatter of metal on metal as Eliot dropped a pan into the sink. His back had gone rigid, the tension visible and suddenly it clicked into place. It seemed like such a silly thing for Eliot of all people to be worried about but if there was anything Hardison knew better than anyone it was that fear wasn’t always rational.

“Oh yeah,” he commented, careful to sound pleasantly surprised but not overly so. “That’s a good look on you. I like it.” Hardison turned back to his computer screen, turning the conversation to the improvements he was making to their firewall and surveillance. 

That was it. Eliot felt himself relax as Hardison moved the conversation forward. It seemed sort of ridiculous now that he thought about it. Of course Hardison wouldn’t look twice. All the other man needed to know was that it made Eliot happy and that was that. They knew each other. They accepted each other and everything that came with that. Yes, this may be a little unconventional but then again, none of them were. It was just another thing that made Eliot Eliot and the two of them had already accepted all of him. Yeah, Eliot thought to himself, listening as Hardison tried to very patiently get Parker’s fingers away from his keyboard. He had a lot of things to thank Nate for.


	2. 19: “You WILL survive this.” Shane and Rick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:  
> TWD Shane/Daryl or Shane and Rick. 19.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for suicide and substance abuse.

Shane was ten when his dad ran out on them.

His mom took it the hardest. She fell apart from the abandonment and grief. It was as if she was in a trance and no matter what he tried it was like his voice slid right off. After a few days, the school started to call wanting to know why he hadn’t come in. It was then he realized that life couldn’t just stop and it looked like he would have to continue on his own. 

So Shane started walking himself to school, living off of PB&J and Poptarts because that’s all he knew how to make. When he got sick of them he started watching cooking shows and looking through Mrs. Grimes’ cookbooks when he was over to teach himself how to make real food.

He would hang out with Rick’s mom while Rick did his chores after school so he could pick things up on the sly like how to work the washer and dryer and how much soap to put in. He thought separating the whites was unnecessary until all his socks started turning gray and he finally ended up with a pink T-shirt.

 

It took a few months before Rick finally found out what was going on. Shane missed a day of school and he dropped by to give his friend the assignments he missed. What he found when he walked in made his stomach turn. Shane’s 

mother was asleep on the couch, a bucket placed near her head and a bottle of whisky overturned on the floor while Shane stood at the sink washing dishes.  
“You can’t tell anybody,” Shane had pleaded. “If you do, they’re gonna take me away. They won’t understand.”

“But Shane-”

“She’s sick, Rick.” Shane argued desperately. “If I don’t take care of her, who will?”

 

Rick may not have understood what was happening to Shane’s mom but he knows that kids weren’t supposed to be looking after adults. Still, Rick didn’t want to lose his friend and Shane looked like he was keeping things together.

So he kept his mouth shut. But he didn’t let it stop him from helping his friend in other ways. From purposely telling his mom the wrong size when she went school shopping -”Gosh, ma. I’m real sorry. They look like they’d fit Shane though. We can give ‘em to him.”- to sneaking extra left overs into his lunch and offering to help him do homework. He never told anyone what was really going on in the Walsh house, though looking back on it now he was pretty sure his Mama had put the pieces together.

At fourteen, Shane got his first job. It was a warehouse gig, unloading and loading trucks and driving forklift. Physically it was taxing but the pay was decent. Shane would bust his ass between taking care of the house, working nights to earn a paycheck to keep them fed and the electricity on and keeping up with his schoolwork while still making the time for football, a linebacker to Rick’s quarterback. 

It was also the first time Rick had seriously considered breaking his promise. Shane was running himself ragged but he continued to reassure Rick that he had this. When Rick found out how, he wasn’t okay with keeping this to himself anymore. 

The caffeine pills put such a strain on their friendship that Rick has almost walked away from Shane completely more than once. He was adamant that Shane was going to kill himself but Shane was just as stubborn, arguing that they were over the counter as though that meant something.

But Shane didn’t give in and rick didn’t have it in him to abandon him. Shane kept things running and looked after his mama, trying to coax her to at least get out of bed and kissing her on the forehead before he left on days that she couldn’t. He always made sure there was food in the fridge and at least a bottle of water or two on her nightstand. 

Before leaving for work at night he would do it all again. It was hard but it was his life and he was going to do the best he could with what he had. He was determined to be a good man. A man his mother could be proud of and his father could never hope to compare to.

 

Then the storm hit.

They were seventeen, in their junior year of high school. It was nearly four in the morning when Rick’s phone rang. He was exhausted and ready to let it ring until he recognized the ring tone. Shane. He sat up groggily, answering it with a raspy “Hello”. He rubbed at his eyes as Shane started to speak, the words too fast for him to process. “Hold on, brother. Slow down. What’s goin’ on?” Shane took a deep breath and started again and this time Rick heard it. A blast of icy cold went down his spine, stabbing him through the heart. 

“I’ll be right there. Don’t touch anything. Give me five minutes, okay?”

He was already out of bed, frantically pulling on pants and a T-shirt that he would later realize was inside out. He barely had the thought to stop in his parents’ room to let them know he was leaving. 

“Mama, I gotta go,” he told her, voice shaking. “It Shane. Can’t explain now. I gotta go.”

Rick flew to the Walsh house faster than ever. The police were already there along with the fire department and ambulance. Shane was sitting on the back of the firetruck, a blanket around his shoulders and looking absolutely numb as he was questioned. 

“Shane,” he said softly as he approached. His friend’s head lifted, eyes unfocused. “Shane, talk to me. What…what happened?”

It seemed to take a moment for Shane to realize who he was and what was happening. It was as if everything came into focus all at once and for the first time since his dad left, Shane actually cried. He broke down as everything he hadn’t allowed himself to feel since then came pouring out and Rick hugged him through it. He told Rick everything through gasping breaths. How he got home from work and went to check on his mom but she wasn’t in her bed. How for a moment he’d been so hopeful, thinking that maybe if she was getting up on her own she was getting better. Then it was all taken away in an instant. He found her on the bathroom floor holding an empty prescription bottle and there was nothing anyone could do. She’d been there for awhile and she had already gone cold.

“Why? What…what did I do,” he gasped. “I tried so hard. I did everything. What did I miss?” 

Rick tried to soothe and reassure his friend. “There was nothing else you could have done,” he told him. “I can’t tell you why she… Shane, you did all you could and more. This isn’t on you.”

Shane shook his head. “What am I gonna do,” he asked desperately. “What do I do now?”

“You come back to my house,” Rick answered, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You take your time and you do what you need to do to let her go. We’re gonna help you.”  
“I…I don’t know if I can,” Shane rasped out. “I can’t do it anymore, man.”

Rick frowned, hugging Shane tighter. “You can and you will,” he told him. “You WILL survive this. You’re too strong not to.”

 

So Shane stayed with them. He and Rick graduated a year later and while he’d never really be over it, the loss was easier by then. He remembered how to smile and Mrs. Grimes took full advantage to get dozens of pictures of the two of them in their caps and gowns. Rick’s dad made sure to give both boys a crushing hug and tell them how proud he was of them. While Shane didn’t get his wish of having his mother there to see this moment, he still had his family. He had Rick. He had been right. It was a hard road but Shane made it. He survived.


	3. Merle/Daryl - 2. Why are you like this?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> 2 or 12 or 70 for merle/daryl?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So let me start by saying, this ship is not really my thing. I had to do some reading to see how others wrote it and play with it a bit and I did the best I could. Hope you enjoy it!

Two years. Daryl had waited two years for Merle to get out. Twenty four months of coming home to an empty house. Seven hundred and thirty days of worrying. Seventeen thousand, five hundred and twenty hours of loneliness. And now that Merle was finally free, Daryl wanted to spend every second he could with his brother and lover. He wanted the two of them to pack up the truck and spend a whole month at the family cabin, just the two of them living off the land and each other, making up for lost time. 

Merle, of course, had a very different idea of how he was going to celebrate his release from the big house. Daryl was okay with bars. He didn’t mind going as long as Merle was there with him and he couldn’t blame the guy for wanting a drink after not getting a single drop for so long. What he was not okay with was watching his brother entertain the pretty, blonde thing in his lap. 

The busty, giggling girl was a dancer as she called it. Barely legal with daddy issues so strong you could smell it on her. The way she hung off Merle, laughing at nothing, arching her back to put herself on display, whispering about how she liked older men, it all had Daryl grinding his teeth and holding his beer a little too tight. When Merle began groping and fondling her breasts right there at the bar, Daryl had enough. With a loud grunt, he slammed his beer on the counter, slapping down a few bills before storming off. 

This wasn’t the first time Merle had hooked up with someone else. Far from it actually. He would often find some willing woman to take to the motel down the street and come stumbling home in the morning. It had never much bothered Daryl, knowing his brother would never settle down and least of all with him. He didn’t really want to either. It helped keep up appearances. The Dixon’s had a bad enough reputation without adding “brother fucker” to the list. And it was better for everyone if Merle was too busy getting his dick wet to get in trouble. But tonight was different. At least Daryl had wanted it to be. 

Stepping out into the cool, night air, Daryl stalked down to the corner of the dingy, brick front building. He leaned against the wall and pulled out a cigarette. He shouldn’t have come out tonight, he thought as he lit the end and took a long drag. Holding his breath, he let the nicotine start to seep into his system before letting out a cloud of smoke. “Should’a known,” Daryl growled to himself. He took another drag, the cherry glowing bright in the shadows. 

The door of the bar opened again, the sound of loud of conversation and country music floating out into the dark before it closed and sealed the noise away again. Merle wandered over with a laugh, leaning against the wall beside Daryl and plucking the lit cigarette from between his lips. 

“Man, the tits on that one,” he said, nudging Daryl conspiratorially. “Suffocatin’ in a pair like that? What a way to go, little brother.”

Daryl frowned, snatching the smoke back before Merle could get a decent lungful. “Go ahead then,” he snapped. “Drown in her fuckin’ cunt for all I care.”

Merle’s brow furrowed at the tone, taking the cigarette again before it even reached Daryl’s lips. “The hell crawled up your ass all a sudden?” 

Daryl growled and glared at his brother, his anger over everything boiling dangerously high. “You wanna spend your first night back with some dumb broad what didn’t know you existed five minutes ago, be my guest! Like I ain’t waited long enough already!”

“Aw. Is little Darlyna jealous? Gonna cry about it too? You turn into a little bitch without old Merle to keep ya in line? That it?”

Daryl shook his head, staring at the black top. “Such an asshole,” he mumbled. “The fuck is wrong with you? Why are you like this?”

“The fuck is wrong with me,” Merle sneered. “I ain’t the one poutin’ in the dark over some easy ass.”

“Just fuckin’ forget it,” Daryl huffed. He pushed away from the wall, walking toward the street.

“Where the hell you goin’,” Merle demanded. 

“M’goin’ home! Spent two damn years waitin’ there for your ass! What’s one more night by myself!” 

“Fine! Go then,” Merle shouted after him. “Don’t need you to have fun anyway!”

The walk home felt longer than ever even though the bar was only a few blocks away. Daryl went straight to his bedroom and kicked off his shoes and pants. He stripped off down to his boxers and T-shirt before climbing into bed. There was no point waiting up. It would just be another night by himself. He tried his best to banish thoughts of Merle back on his barstool, his hand none too subtly up the blonde girl’s short skirt or in the back of the truck. After awhile he finally managed to doze off. 

There was no way to know how long he’d been drifting but eventually he was roused by a dip in the mattress. He was still and quiet ad the other person shifted and adjusted themselves, getting settled in. An arm wrapped around his middle and Daryl didn’t have it in him to stay mad. “What about your girlfriend,” he asked, voice slightly hopeful.

“Changed my mind,” Merle rasped. “Decided I was better off breakin’ in this new sponge thing ya bought.”

“Mem’ry foam,” Daryl told him, rolling his eyes. “Told ya, Beth wrangled me into it when the old one quit.”

“Whatever the hell it is,” Merle grumbled. “Just...decided I’d rather be somewhere familiar.” 

It was the closest Daryl was going to get to an apology and he was willing to accept it. He hunkered down in Merle’s hold, laying his own arm over his big brother’s. Merle was home and Daryl didn’t want to waste another second.


End file.
